


Space is Quite Vast

by Geonn



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Mutual Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-25
Updated: 2011-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:33:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In space, "nearby" is a relative term.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space is Quite Vast

"I guess it could be worse."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and allowed herself to smile. "You do realize that's the cue for something to go wrong, don't you?"

John examined the console. "No new alarms or alerts." He smiled over at her. "I think we're good. We have the supplies we were taking to the settlement, we have a couple of puzzle books that McKay and Zelenka stashed in all the puddle jumpers for situations just like this, and we've got a line on not one, but two Stargates within jumper distance. Like I said, as far as these things go, it could be a lot worse."

"Yes. And I suppose I could have gotten more objectionable company, Colonel Sheppard."

John furrowed his brow. "Nice backhanded compliment there, Dr. Weir."

She grinned and looked out the glass. They seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, their unimaginable speed made to look like a crawl by vast distances and inertial dampeners. She knew that if the puddle jumper had been on Earth, it would be crossing continents faster than she could register them. She was riding in a vehicle faster than any she had ever been in before, and yet she still felt the urge to press down on the gas pedal.

The mission was supposed to be a milk run. Come through the space gate, fly down to the settlement of people displaced by the Wraith, shake a few hands and make some friends, then head home. Unfortunately, the entire thing was a set-up. As soon as they came through the Gate, Wraith darts had swarmed them and started firing. A call down to the surface revealed that the refugees were really Wraith worshippers. Ronon had gotten McKay, Teyla and the diplomatic team to safety outside of the village and they would stay there until the _Daedalus_ could come pick them up.

John had tried dialing the Gate, but the Wraith blocked them from getting anywhere close to it. Finally he was forced to cloak the ship and take evasive maneuvers. He was able to lose them quickly, and used the heads-up display to find the next nearest Gate. He found one that was a three-day trip from their current location. All he could do was make the heading and head out.

"I should have just waited until the Darts got bored. Used the Gate at Pellus."

"We don't know if the Wraith would have gotten bored and left."

John didn't take the bait. "Then we should have hid behind a moon or something and waited for Caldwell to show up with reinforcements."

"So you would rather we had just sat around doing nothing. Like we are now." She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, daring him to argue the point.

"Fine. I just hate... waiting."

She smiled. "I understand, John. You'd be amazed how many roads in Afghanistan and Iraq are just long endless strips of gray surrounded by blowing sand on either side."

"Sounds kind of like Nevada."

Elizabeth laughed. "At least on those trips I had speeches to fine-tune, and I could sleep."

"You could sleep here. I promise to be on my best behavior."

"Oh, well, then what's the point?" She sighed and put her hands in her thighs, arching her back to stretch the muscles. "I think I will get up and stretch my legs for a little while. Too long in this seat can't be a good thing." She stood and put her hands in the small of her back, stretching and bending to work out the kinks in her body. She saw John's reflection in the glass, saw him glance over as her shirt rose up to expose the skin between her shirt and the waistband of her trousers. She didn't mind him looking; she have given as good as she got when it came to him and those flight suits.

"I think I'm going to try lying down for a nap. Do you want anything from the supplies?"

"Coffee, if we have any."

She made a sound of longing. She had already looked and came up empty. Three days without coffee was about as torturous an ordeal as she could imagine. Ironically, it was for that very reason they didn't have any in the supplies. "Afraid not. Carson was worried about addicting indigenous people who wouldn't have the ability to create it on their own. I'll try to find something comparable, though."

He wished her luck, and she went into the back of the jumper. The supplies were stacked along one side of the jumper, taking up space on the bench and held back by the black netting. She went to the bench on what she called the "driver's side" and sat down to take off her boots. She had been joking with him, but the truth was she had definitely lucked out on the companionship front. She liked McKay and Zelenka and Ronon just fine, but the thought of spending three days alone with any of them made her throat close in a panic. Teyla would have been fine, but she knew she would have been forced to carry most of the conversation.

John was a nice balance of conversation and companionable silence. If she had been able to choose, she would have chosen to be trapped with him.

She was worried about the smell. Two people in a cramped space for three days, things were likely to get a bit ripe. She supposed they could take some of their water supplies, wet a rag, and take turns washing up as best they could in the back. Of course, being half-naked in a small jumper with John Sheppard... her hands crept lower to the crotch of her pants and then retreated just as quickly.

Nope. Wasn't going to do that. She could go three days without gratification.

Elizabeth stretched her toes and then stretched out on the bench. She folded her hands on her stomach, the bench just barely long enough for her to lay comfortably with her feet against the far wall. She had taken off her jacket within an hour of their trip, and now she wished she had it for a blanket. She tried sleeping, closing her eyes and waiting to doze off, but sleep wouldn't come. She kept wondering about the team, if they were safe, if they had managed to elude the Wraith worshippers or not.

After about fifteen minutes, she decided she needed her jacket if just as a pillow. And if she used it as a blanket, she might be able to cover her hands enough that she could give herself a little manual relief before she rejoined John. She sat up and padded barefoot back to the cockpit. "Don't mind me. I'm just--"

John's shoulders jerked, and he twisted violently to his left. He had suddenly leaned forward and the HUD misinterpreted his movement as a command. The ship lunged forward and Elizabeth stumbled forward. She hit the center console with her hip and hissed as she turned toward John to make sure he was okay. Her eyes widened as she saw a flash of skin as he stuffed his cock back into his trousers.

"Oh, God." She could feel herself blushing as she turned away from him. Her jacket was draped over the back of her seat and she pulled it away. "I just... I needed my jacket."

"I was just--"

"No need to explain, Colonel. I had the same thought myself. Let's just forget that... let's just forget. Goodnight, John."

"Yeah." She turned and was almost through the door - with a plan to shut it, stretch out, and take care of that itch after all - when he spoke again. "Elizabeth."

"Mm-hmm?" She strove for casual, but she was afraid it came out as shrill. "Yes?"

"What do you mean you had the same thought?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. Finally, she shook her head. "I... I don't..."

"Do you mean that you thought about yourself lying down in the back, and then started thinking about what you would normally wear to bed?" His voice was deeper than usual, adding to the growl that could, if spoken in her earpiece at just the right moment, cause her legs to weaken. She licked her lips and turned to look at him. He was still facing forward, the picture of professionalism except for the way he was hunched over his crotch.

"No, actually. I thought about the way you smell. Musky and natural. And I thought about what would happen if we were forced to take turns bathing in the back of the puddle jumper." She walked cautiously back to her seat, folding herself into it. Her ears burned as she sat down, pressing her thighs together as she looked outside.

She heard a zipper and closed her eyes to resist the urge to look over. She turned her head slightly away, furrowed her brow, and pressed her lips together. One hand moved toward her waistband, moved away, and then she pressed her shoulders against the back of the seat and lifted her hips. The button came undone despite the shaking of her hands, and she jerked down the zipper before she could rethink it.

"I think about your hands a lot."

Elizabeth opened her eyes at that. "My... hands?"

He grunted in response. "The way you hold them. Folding your fingers together, or with the fingers... extended. And the tips pressed together with the thumbs up." He cleared his throat. "They're... great hands."

She blushed. Men had complimented her features, her eyes, and of course her breasts and her butt. No one had ever mentioned her hands before. She was touched her had noticed. "Thank you." She put a hand between her underwear and pants. "What do you imagine them doing to you?"

"Ah..."

"Come on, Colonel." Her voice was a whisper. "In for a penny."

For a moment she thought he wouldn't answer. And then, "Touching me. Wrapping around me. Stroking."

She finally got the courage to look over the console at him. His pants were folded open, his cock extending from the fly. She blinked rapidly as her mouth went dry. She was looking at John Sheppard's erection, his fingers loosely wrapped around it and, oh God, he was even wearing his wristband. Just like in all her fantasies. Even when she wouldn't let herself picture his face, the hands touching her always had that black wristband.

"I think about your hands, too. On my body." She relaxed against the seat, letting the cushions support her weight as she began stroking. "Your fingers inside of me." She looked forward. They swept past a small blue planet.

"What do you wear to bed?"

There was no one answer. She closed her eyes and tried to think of her most alluring night-wear. She licked her lips. "A pair of silk shorts and a matching tank top. They feel great on my skin after a long soak in one of those Atlantean tubs." Her voice was trembling now. "I take bubble baths. Rub lotion into my skin. And then I stretch out in bed and think about you touching me."

"God, Elizabeth."

"John."

They were both breathing hard, almost panting, and she wondered about the air scrubbers. They would last three days even with this exertion, right? They had to. She forced her mind to clear and created a fantasy to occupy her imagination.

She imagined they were sitting in his car. It would be a muscle car. A '68 Shelby. They would be sitting side by side in the front seat, too afraid to actually do anything with each other but so desperate to do _something_. Elizabeth brought her hand from her pants, licked two fingers, and then pushed them into her underwear with a desperate moan. She stroked herself rapidly, eager for her orgasm now.

The windows of the Shelby would be fogged from their breath. Elizabeth rocked her head back against the seat.

"Elizabeth... I'm... I can't wait."

"I'm close, too. Let yourself go... it's okay, John."

She looked over, pushing herself up in her seat. She gasped as he came, the thick white come dripping down over his fingers. He kept stroking, spreading it over the purple-pink head of his cock as he sagged back against the seat. He was breathing raggedly, but Elizabeth couldn't take her eyes off his erection. She moved her fingers faster, two of them dipping inside as she wrapped her free hand around the arm of the chair.

John was still idly stroking, watching as she thrust her hips against her hand. She imagined her fingers were his, wet with his come instead of her saliva, and she tightened her thighs around her hand. "Oh... John..."

"God, I love how you say my name, Elizabeth."

She moaned and arched her back, and then twisted so that she would fall into her chair than onto the floor. She bucked against her hand, her knees bent and her feet hovering just above the ground as she tried to fold her body around her midsection. She licked her lips and tried to catch her breath, blushing as she realized what she had just done and with whom.

Elizabeth heard him stand up, but she kept her eyes closed. He moved around in the back of the jumper and then finally came back. He lightly tapped her arm and she looked over to see he was offering her a moist hand towel and a bottle of water. She sheepishly took her hand from her underwear, thanked him under her breath, and took them both. She wiped off her fingers, unscrewed the cap of the bottle, and drank half of it in a single swig. Sheppard sat down in the pilot's seat as well, wiping his hand off with his own towel. Elizabeth looked at him and saw a bit of darkness where his come had dripped onto his pants. She shuddered.

"Sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. John."

He didn't look up, but he smiled.

She took another drink, letting the water sit on her tongue for a few seconds before she swallowed. They were still at least fifty hours away from the Stargate, from Atlantis and the safety of home and rules and boundaries that shouldn't be crossed. Fifty hours alone in a puddle jumper, just the two of them.

Her lips curled into a smile as she let herself sink into the seat. She pulled her feet up, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her cheek against her knee. "You know, your hands aren't the only thing I think of at night..."

John cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah? What else?"

Elizabeth's smile became feral as she turned to look at him, her toes curling. "Why don't you guess?"

John looked at her and slowly, slowly, he smiled.


End file.
